My Childhood Drama

Today, my mom sent me a throwback picture from my childhood me, a tiny bean, in the pool at KC Club. It instantly took me back to those summer days when my parents, in their infinite wisdom, thought swimming was the perfect skill for me to learn. Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.  

I was terrified of water. The idea of swimming gave me major cold feet, so I’d invent the lamest excuses to skip class. “My head hurts,” “I left my swimsuit at home,” “I think it’s going to rain” you name it, I tried it. But skating? Now that was my jam. I never missed a skating class. Wheels on my feet, wind in my hair, pure bliss.  

One fateful day, my excitement got the better of me. I thought it was a skating day, so I happily tagged along. Surprise! It was actually a swimming class. My mood tanked instantly. I sulked all the way, only to have my master hit me with the ultimate challenge: jump off the slide into the pool. The deep side of the pool.  

Cue full-on Mr. Bean vibes. I stood there, frozen, staring down at the water as if it were a monster ready to swallow me whole. No amount of pep talk was working. My master, clearly unimpressed with my drama, had my friends do the unthinkable they pushed me.  

Next thing I know, I’m airborne, then underwater, flailing like a lost fish. My master probably thought I’d float up like a pro. Nope. I sank like a rock. For a second, I thought, “This is it, the end of my story.” But then, my master realized I wasn’t about to resurface anytime soon and dived in to save me.  

Back home, I bawled my eyes out. That was it. I declared my swimming career officially over. Skating, my first love, welcomed me back with open arms. To this day, water and I have a complicated relationship, but that memory? It’s pure gold dramatic, hilarious, and oh-so-me.